Tuesday

Apr 9, 2019 at 3:42 PMApr 9, 2019 at 3:42 PM

British writer-director Mike Leigh has often included a dose of social commentary in his films, whether comedies (“Life Is Sweet”), tragedies (“Naked”) or biographies (“Mr. Turner”). In his historical drama “Peterloo,” social commentary is joined at the hip with political commentary, resulting in a study of dark times in 17th century England – specifically Leigh’s hometown of Manchester – that led to the heinous incident known as the massacre at Peterloo.

The name is a play on words, referring to the Battle of Waterloo, site of Napoleon’s defeat, which is seen in passing in the film’s opening moments. It’s from there that exhausted British soldiers stagger their way home – in this case to Manchester – only to find that their families are dealing with exorbitant living costs and ever-rising taxes. Yet, at the same time, foolish government officials, singing the praises of the victorious Duke of Wellington, decide to give him a gift of 750,000 pounds. The poor working class? What poor working class? Who are they but a bunch of troublemakers?

It’s from that point that Leigh’s slow-paced, very talky film begins its long build toward its inexorable climax. It should be no surprise that this is slow and talky; that’s kind of a Leigh trademark. The difference here, and the reason this film is going to be a challenge to sell, is that Leigh and company have gone overboard in delivering their message, in attempting to show that history repeats itself, that a story of a government ignoring the needs of its people is extremely relevant today.

The poor working class folks of Manchester want representation in the government, lower taxes, and want to be able to live a life that isn’t all about just scraping by. Families talk about it quietly in homes. Soon friends gather in pubs and get a little more animated about it. Eventually there are larger and louder town hall meetings. “Something must be done!” proclaim the participants.

But the government magistrates regularly pass down harsh sentences on poor people who have committed petty crimes. And after “office hours,” they get together to have a laugh about the worthless working class. Most of them refer to the lowly citizens as rabble and believe that the only thing they would understand is the rod.

Throughout the 154-minute running time, Leigh focuses on one family dealing with the problem, but also opens it up to a bigger picture, with all sorts of passionate speeches, some of them too long, some of them becoming repetitive. The rip-roaringest of them come from the rock star orator Henry Hunt (outstanding acting from Rory Kinnear, best known as M’s righthand man in the recent Bond films), who makes his living traveling the country and giving crowd-uniting anti-government speeches to the masses. Two equally impressive performances come from Maxine Peake as Nellie, a mother trying to hold her family together, and from Vincent Franklin as the noxious Magistrate Reverend Ethelston, who despises the poor.

The build-up leads to Aug. 16, 1819, and a large outdoor meeting at Manchester’s St. Peter’s Field where Hunt is scheduled to speak about Parliamentary reform to what turns out to be thousands of listeners: a happy, spirited crowd, dotted with whole families, that have come together in a peaceful, festive atmosphere, unaware that dark-suited magistrates are at the same time planning to read the riot act, unleashing cavalrymen upon them, waving swords and firing guns.

The chaotic climactic sequence is intense, but comes too late in the film for its true power to be felt. Audiences will be as exhausted as those Waterloo soldiers by that point. The stinger of it all is that after the tumultuous and disturbing sequence, the film cuts to the royal chambers of those who run the country, who write the whole thing off as “a regrettable circumstance.” Yes, despite its flaws, the film does indeed smack of relevancy.